The Doctor and his Writer
by ElizabethMariah
Summary: Esther Jenkins isn't your ordinary girl. She's something different. But what? No one can't figure it out. Even the Doctor. So when he finds her and notices her 'gift'.. he takes her to see the time and space. But will he manage to figure out who she really is? Or will she stay as a mystery?


**Hello! Here is another story. Wow. I have so many stories going on.**

**I wanted to make this OC different, but I'm not sure how I manage. Probably she would soon fall into the cliché character form.**

**But I hope that you'll still like her.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. Sadly.**

**Oh, and in this part.. the Doctor isn't in yet. Sorry guys.**. **girls.**

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A girl, near the age of twenty, looked at the title page of her new notebook. She had only three weeks to write every single word in her head as a story. As a fantasy story. It had to be original, not some vampire stuff like all the teenagers loved to read. She had to be creative for her literature class in college.

With one last glance at the notebook, she closed it and pushed it into her small white purse, her pen following it. When she stood up, her eyes fell on the man who was standing next to the door of the library. Something about him was different. A silly thought crossed her mind when she looked away. That he wasn't human.

It took all the willpower in her to not laugh at her thought.

After lifting the silver chain of her purse over her shoulder, she fixed her white jacket and pushed away few wrinkles in her creamy jeans. In some way, she was a perfectionist. Everything on her had to be perfect. Her flat could be the messiest place on earth, but she had to look like she stepped out of the catalog.

Her naturally ginger hair, which actually reached to her waist, was pulled up into a bun, leaving few curls to fall around her pale face. The girl's face had this lovely shape of a heart, which matched perfectly with her button nose, high cheekbones, almond-shaped eyes and a bit thin lips. Her cheeks had shadows on them when her eyes were closed, because her dark eyelashes were thick and long, without using any mascara.

Many girls and women were jealous because of her natural beauty. She used minimal make up. Lip gloss, some times a bit concealer and maybe when there were times when she looked too pale, she added some blush. But that was it.

She also had the perfect body, shaped like an hourglass and slim. Not in an unhealthy way. Just slim. No unnecessary fat on her belly, thighs or arms. All the curves were on right places, which also gave her a very big freedom to choose and match her clothes.

On that particular day, she was wearing creamy jeans with brown knee-high boots, brown top with bow at the bottom edge and three-quarters length white jacket.

Fashion, was her passion.

And so was literature, which was the reason she wanted to go to the college and learn about it, taking some journalism classes too.

She had always had this.. gift. A gift to see through people, to read them like an open book. Usually when she was bored, she spent her time at the park or some small caffè, where she was studying the people around her.

And that gift made her stomach to twist few knots when she saw that man. After shrugging the wird feeling off, she walked out of the library, stepping into the cold air of London. It was autumn and she loved it. It was the most inspiring seasons on earth.

Taking a deep breath, looking around, she finally started walking towards the small park near the library, because she had to go right through it so she could get to her flat.

Her steps were easy, but the knot in her stomach made still made her feel uncomfortable. Step after step she added some speed and soon found herself running through the park, colorful leaves rustling under her feet. After ten minutes of running, she arrived to the block of flats and entered, running up the stairs.

Before she could unlock the door of her flat, a heavy hand fell on her shoulder, making her squeal. Her whole body made a quick movement of turn and her hand was raising to attack the person behind her. Five strong fingers were wrapped around her wrist, stopping her fist. She looked up into the black eyes, completely black eyes, of a man.

''Writer. Writer. Writer.'' he whispered in a cold and stretchy voice, making her to squeak as he stepped closer, pressing her against the door. ''What is on your mind.. writer?''


End file.
